


Numbers Game

by hakkais_shadow



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mob, Gambling, I can totally see Yifan as a mafia boss, Jongdae outsmarts himself, Lu Han for the win, M/M, Mafia AU, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Why do I love mob AUs so much?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakkais_shadow/pseuds/hakkais_shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes gambling has its risks, especially when it isn't your money - and when there is more at stake than you realize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Numbers Game

**Author's Note:**

> A/N : A little background into some of the terminology used in the story. There’s a hierarchy in Chinese crime organizations and they often go by numbers:
> 
> 489 - the Dragon Master, or ultimate leader of the group (pretty fitting, isn’t it?)  
> 438 - the Vanguard, or operations manager  
> 426 - the Red Pole, or Enforcer  
> 415 - the White Paper Fan, or financial and business advisor
> 
> Roulette terms:
> 
> croupier : Roulette dealer  
> rien ne va plus - ‘no more bets’  
> split - a bet on two adjoining numbers, either vertical or horizontal  
> street - a bet on three numbers in a horizontal line
> 
>  
> 
> I do plan on continuing this, possibly doing some backstories with the other couples.

“Four plus one plus five is ten,” Kim Jongdae muttered to himself as stared down the length of the roulette table to the spinning wheel, the movement of the tiny silver ball almost hypnotizing in its action. Without a second thought - and just before the croupier called ‘rien ne va plus’ he slipped a stack of chips onto the black square with the number 10 on the table in front of him, remembering the new color of Zhang Yixing’s hair and hoping it would bring him luck.  
  
 _Luck_ , Jongdae snorted to himself as the wheel continued to spin.  _I’m sitting here thinking about luck when I’m pressing it every time I put another chip down. Boss wouldn’t take kindly to using some of his money to pay back my debt._ “Not take kindly” was an understatement and Jongdae knew it, especially when your boss ( _’Duizhang,’ Jongdae reminded himself. ‘Think Mandarin’_ ) was the head of the Black Dragons, one of Hong Kong’s most notorious criminal organizations.  
  
“Then why did you join, dumbass?” might be the next question someone would ask Jongdae - and, in fact, he’d asked himself this many times, in many different ways (sometimes the ‘dumbass’ was replaced with ‘idiot’, other times more creative words were used.) Ultimately it boiled down to family ties. His father and older brother had gotten themselves deeply in debt to Duizhang’s father and the only way to dig them out with fingers intact and bullet-free was little Jongdae. Brainy little Kim Jongdae, accountant extraordinaire, shipped from Korea with his firm grasp of numbers and fumbling Mandarin to save the family honor - not to mention a few body parts.  
  
“Ten black,” the croupier called out and Jongdae let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, more chips joining the ones he had bet as his modest fortune grew. He used to think he knew everything about numbers but that changed when he’d joined the Dragons. Numbers had  _meaning_  here, more than just figures scratched on a piece of paper or entered onto a spreadsheet. Each member of Duizhang’s elite ranks was given a number and a title and these had power. Take the number he had just used before, the one for Zhang Yixing, the White Paper Fan of the organization. Jongdae worked directly under the financial and business advisor of the Dragons and it almost seemed perverse to use Yixing’s number - 415 - to help himself skim more money off the top to repay the debt. Yixing had treated him well, much better than some of the others.  
  
Now he had no such guilt using Huang Zitao’s number. Jongdae scowled slightly as he took a swig of the straight-up whiskey he’d ordered from the waitress, placing another pile of chips on a number, red 12 this time. The Enforcer - the 426 - was rumored to be Duizhang’s little brother. Highly skilled in wushu and the organization’s strong arm Tao seemed to be a study in contrasts, especially around his big brother and those he was close to - and that definitely didn’t include Jongdae. Yixing had called him ‘Little Peach’ once and Jongdae made the mistake of laughing and repeating the words just as Tao had entered the room. If scowls could be used as weapons Jongdae would have been six feet under that very moment. Ever since the younger man seemed to have it out for him, his soft snickers always echoing whenever Jongdae tripped over nothing or misplaced files he had to deliver to Yixing.  _Asshole._  Not that he would ever say that out loud, of course. He may not have a brain-to-mouth filter most of the time but he wasn’t completely stupid - Huang Zitao was scary.  
  
He waved off a friendlier-than-she-should-be cigarette girl as his number was called and his pile of multicoloured chips grew even larger. He almost wished he had picked up the habit, his fingers instead flipping a chip back and forth, fingernails bitten down to the quick skimming over the corregated edges as he tried to calm his nerves. He had started off simply, a few dollars here, a few there, rounding costs up to the nearest dollar and pocketing the change. He’d been to the casinos a few times, making sure he wasn’t frequenting one more than others. He would count cards at one casino, shoot craps at another. Today it was Roulette, the riskiest of all. You could play it safe and bet on red or black - a fifty-fifty chance to win. However, it had gotten to the point where that wasn’t enough anymore. Not enough risk, not enough gain. He wasn’t even satisfied betting on a split or a street anymore. No, Jongdae was now placing more money on a single number each time and his luck was holding out.  
  
“I should thank Duizhang for this later,” he murmured wryly to himself, a slight smirk on his lips as he placed the largest pile of chips yet on black 15 in honor of the Boss’ right hand man.  
  
And just as the silver ball landed right where he hoped it would he felt lips pressed against his ear, a cold chill running down his spine even as a warm breath and familiar voice tickled his earlobe, the use of his native Korean making the words even worse.  
  
“Later is sooner than you think, ChenChen,” Luhan purred as he smiled against the smaller man’s ear, Wu Yifan’s second-in-command reaching over to cover Jongdae’s hand with his own, taking the chip from the accountant’s now-numb fingers.  
  
“Duizhang wants to have a chat.”  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Wu Yifan, leader of the Black Dragons, heir to the Wu family fortune - a fortune earned through decades if not centuries of violence, trafficking, and murder - bearer of a name feared on both sides of the Pacific, the infamous  _Duizhang_  was bored. Hours of business meetings had left him needing a good stiff drink, his nerves frayed to the point of snapping like a bowstring if someone stepped in that moment with one more petty complaint or bruised ego. He looked up from his glass of Glenfiddich, the scotch burning his throat as he swallowed and caught his reflection in the glass cabinet across from his desk. He was wearing what Luhan described as his ‘constipated’ look - brow furrowed, lips pursed in a half-scowl. He preferred to consider it stern and foreboding but Luhan was probably not entirely wrong as he didn’t feel particularly stern or foreboding. (Of course he could argue that he wasn’t feeling particularly constipated either, but that was beside the point.)  
  
What Wufan was - and he hated to admit this - was lonely. His little brother said he needed to get laid. This, of course, came from the lofty perch of someone who ‘knew,’ if the looks Tao shared with that new representative from Seoul were any indication. Kohl-lined eyes seemed to follow the Enforcer’s every move and Tao knew it, his gait shifting from a stalk to a saunter for Byun Baekhyun’s benefit. Even Tao had a love life more colorful and active than his own and the Black Dragon’s leader grudgingly acknowledged that his little brother was right. But Wu Yifan wanted  _more_. More than just one night stands or stupid, vapid little creatures who clung to his arm with candy-apple red dragon claws and giggled, seemingly more obsessed with his Armani suits and Rolex watches than the man who wore them. He was the boss but he sometimes felt like little more than arm candy.  
  
As high profile as his position was in Hong Kong’s criminal underworld, Wufan was a very private person, especially when it came to matters of the heart or the libido. So he’d been looking rather discreetly for companionship amongst those he knew and trusted. He’d shown a passing interest in Yixing, fascinated with the way that delicious little dimple showed itself when the other smiled in that absentminded way of his. However, he’d soon discovered that someone else was interested in Yixing as well and the interest wasn’t so transient. It was as if there were vividly fluorescent neon-bright letters hanging over his business advisor’s head -  
  
PROPERTY OF LUHAN, NOW GET YOUR GRUBBY DUIZHANG HANDS OFF MY CUDDLEMUFFIN. NOW.  
  
And yes, Wufan suspected that would be the exact phrasing Luhan would use, surrounded by hearts and i’s dotted with little smiley faces of doom.  
  
Luhan himself was out of the question. Wufan valued his sanity too much to even think of settling down with his right-hand man. He was what one of the newer accountants in Yixing’s department called “Bambi with a switchblade” - he thought Luhan himself would like that description. He knew that his enemies were often more afraid of his Vanguard than of Wufan himself and he was fine with that. At least when Duizhang was angry it was more than obvious and one had plenty of warning. Luhan would pat you on the head with one hand and fit you for your funeral attire in the other, all while looking like he stepped out of a teen magazine.  
  
The Black Dragons’ leader took another drink of the potent scotch and picked up a casino chip that had been on his desk, scowling lips now curving into an expression of amusement as he thought about the aforementioned accountant, Kim Jongdae. He’d heard about the kid’s unfortunate circumstances but it couldn’t be helped - one didn’t cross the Dragons without expecting some sort of consequences. So now the boy was here, christened with a new name (since Jongdae was too difficult for Tao to say) and a defined purpose - to resurrect his family honor and pay off the debt. Frankly, Wufan found that admirable.  
  
He’d taken to watching Chen on the security cameras at the end of the day, especially after hours when it seemed to be only him and the accountant left. Call it assuaging his boredom, call it idle curiosity. He supposed you could even call it creepy (Luhan probably would). What it  _was_  was entertaining. The Korean boy was a cheeky little thing, muttering to himself while finishing up with the last day’s tallies as he huddled in front of the computer. The usually reserved accountant held nothing back when he was alone, his sarcastic quips hitting close to the mark on more than one occasion. He was definitely right about Luhan and his comments about Tao actually had Wufan laughing out loud - Kung Fu Panda indeed. He would have to make sure his little brother didn’t hear about that though. He already had it out for Chen.  
  
What Wufan was coming to realize was that he also had it out for his newest employee, just in a very different way. Chen was pretty but not in a feminine way, his features well defined and his fingers delicate. He was dedicated and honored his family, something highly valued in Wufan’s eyes. And the way he worried at his bottom lip when he was concentrating...  
  
As Wufan slid the casino chip back and forth between his fingers he thought about his other discovery made while eavesdropping on Kim Jongdae. The boy was a thief, pure and simple. Well no, it wasn’t exactly that simple. Chen’s skimming off the top was well planned out and subtle and he never would have noticed if it hadn’t been for his nightly trysts to view one of his newest employees. The moment he’d been distracted from those chiseled cheekbones to the computer screen Chen had been working on he knew.  
  
At first Wufan was furious when he found out about Chen’s little subterfuge. Men had died for less - and had died in terrible ways, if rumors about his little brother’s imagination were true. Chen should be punished...  
  
...and yet....  
  
He looked at the casino chip in his hand, one side bearing his family crest, the other the namesake of his Clan - a black dragon curling around the edge of the circle. Suddenly he tossed it into the air, murmuring softly to himself as it arched gently before gravity pulled it down, only to be caught in Wufan’s outstretched hand.  
  
“Heads, I win...”  
  
Opening his hand and looking down at the results Wu Yifan, Duizhang of the Black Dragons, smiled.  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
They walked down a hallway lined with mahoghany, the artwork displayed on the walls vaguely familiar to the accountant’s untrained eye. In any other place Chen would have thought that they were high quality prints - with the man they called Duizhang it meant they were likely the originals. That one looked like a Picasso...  
  
Luhan hummed merrily to himself, one hand securely gripping the accountant’s elbow, amusement coloring his pretty features. “That was actually rather clever of you, ChenChen,” he said as if having a conversation as simple as discussing what they had for breakfast that morning. “A little here, a little there, never enough money at once to rouse suspicion, then taking your chances at the casinos. Very smooth. Bet you almost had enough to pay your family’s debt, didn’t you? So close....too bad close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” With a laugh at his own joke the Vanguard half-led, half-dragged Chen into a plushly decorated office.  
  
Lips that had made snarky comments and muttered comebacks late at night were now rendered speechless as Chen looked up from his focused gaze on the floor to meet the impassive face of the Black Dragons’ Duizhang. Wu Yifan was seated at his desk, as still as a statue with the exception of his fingers - fingers that flipped a casino chip between them over and over again. Chen remembered he once called the man the Ice Prince and right now he wasn’t far off. He was beautiful and sometimes Chen thought it would be fun to see that ice melt...  
  
The sound of cracking knuckles derailed that train of thought, Tao lazily stretching his arms above his head. “I want a crack at him, gege,” he said with a smirk, sounding like Christmas had come early for the Enforcer. Chen’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach - he’d heard about the things Tao had done to those who defied the Dragons. He used to watch American mafia movies, the subtitles talking about ‘cement shoes’ and ‘sleeping with the fishes’. He had a sneaking suspicion that Tao did too and that was a very bad thing.  
  
“Leave us.”  
  
There was a finality to the words that sent a foreboding chill down Chen’s spine. He looked down just in time to miss the arch of Luhan’s eyebrow as he glanced at the boss. There was something different in Wufan’s eyes, something Luhan hadn’t been expecting.  
  
 _Interesting_.  
  
“C’mon, Taozi. Time to let Duizhang deal with his little  _problem_ ,” Luhan murmured with a smirk, silencing Tao’s protests with a single glare as he escorted the Enforcer out of the room. Chen almost called out for them to come back, part of him willing to deal with the consequences of both Switchblade Bambi and Kung Fu Panda instead of being left alone with Wu Yifan. He knew this was deadly serious but he couldn’t help but resort back to his inner snark - it was the only thing that kept him from losing it completely and becoming a blubbering, groveling wreck. He had to at least try to be honorable in his last moments.  
  
He heard the scrape of the chair as Wufan rose from his desk and froze, determined not to look up as the other approached. The steady, rhythmic sound of well-crafted Italian shoes treading towards him made Chen swallow, throat dry with fear. It sounded like the other man was circling him, assessing him from every angle, like a lion would assess his next meal.  _Or an appetizer at least. Maybe I should be proud of that fact. Duizhang’s amuse-bouche. Okay, Jongdae, now you are rambling. Your last words are going to be some inner monologue._  
  
The footsteps stopped - and Chen’s heart with it as fingertips skimmed along that well-defined jawline and down his neck, hovering over the younger man’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed again. Finally looking up he met the intensity of Wu Yifan’s gaze as the other stared down at him, a slight quirk of the man’s lips something he’d never seen before. Duizhang always scowled. Always.  
  
“So you like numbers...”  
  
The voice was gruff.  
  
“And gambling...”  
  
Wufan held out the casino chip he’d been flipping in his fingers, a chip much like the ones Chen had been playing roulette with earlier.  
  
“And you were willing to stake your life on it.”  
  
Chen paused, then nodded although Wufan already knew the answer.  
  
“Are you willing to gamble something else?” came that deep voice and Chen couldn’t help but shiver. Looking up, he met Wufan’s eyes once more, then watched as the other tossed the casino chip in the air.  
  
“Heads or tails, ChenChen?”  
  
Kim Jongdae opened his mouth, instinct telling him to call out an answer, only to find his lips captured in a kiss, large hands encircling his waist and pulling him closer.  
  
The chip clattered to the floor, forgotten - and the bet was won.


End file.
